Undercover
by orange-zero
Summary: A story about Detective Nicole Gravely's time as an undercover callgirl for the vice squad of the Portland Police Department. Rated T for some adult themes and swear language.


**[Disclaimer]** I neither own Backstrom nor its characters. No copyright infringement intended or implied. If there are any problems about copyright (or something else), please contact me and I'll do my best to solve them.

 **[Author's notice]** Hey, folks! I'm orange-zero and this is my first fanfiction.

Furthermore, I'm from Germany and my English skills are all from school, books, TV and the internet. Yes, I could write this in German, but I don't think that there is an audience for German Backstrom fanfictions (the English one is small enough)...

I'm telling you all that because I don't want you to expect too much. I'll do my best, but I can't promise anything. Please do review, criticize constructively, and report all language/stylistic mistakes you find, but don't be too hard on me.

Anyways, that's enough talking. Please enjoy the first chapter of my first fanfic as much as you can!

 **Chapter 1 – The unpleasant morning  
**

It was a rainy Monday morning in Portland, Oregon. Not that rain was unusual in that region. Nevertheless, when Detective Nicole Gravely opened her eyes and turned off her smartphone's alarm clock, her mood took a steep drop at the noise made by loads and loads of heavy rain drops bickering against the window of her small bedroom. _Raining, once again. Back_ _in Miami_ _it didn't rain so often. I should never have left._

Yawning, she forced herself to leave the comfy bed to take a hot shower. That is, as hot as the water got in that old apartment building she lived in - and that wasn't as hot as she would have liked it to be. The residents regularly complained, and the janitor always promised to fix it, but well – he never did and with month after month passing, they all began to give up the dream of truly hot water.

As the stream of lukewarm liquid began to wet her flaming red hair and her slim body, Nicole let her thoughts wander to the workday that was ahead of her. _I'm wondering what we_ _'ll_ _get today._ _Maybe we_ _'ll earn_ _a_ _chance to catch a dealer or a pimp. I just hope nobody_ _overdosed._

The lousy shower failed to wake her up properly. Wrapped in a towel and still half asleep, she entered the kitchen and fished a rusty coffee machine out of the cupboard. She lovingly called it "Shocky", as it gave off an electric shock every time it was plugged in. On top of this it made heartrendingly bad coffee. She would have bought a new one, but the Portland Police didn't pay their vice detectives particularly well - and a little shock in the morning helped her getting awake.

But this time, when Nicole plugged it in, there was no shock. Instead the light went out. _Great._ _That's just what I needed._ She worked her way through the twilight to the apartment door and opened it. The staircase's lights were still on. _At least I didn't shut down the complete house._

She comforted herself with the thought of the coffee maker at the precinct and got dressed. She decided upon a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain gray shirt with a fitting marine blazer. After thoroughly rubbing her hair dry (the blow drier didn't work without electricity) and applying a bit of make-up she was satisfied with her appearance – at least with the part of it she could see in the darkness of the rainy morning.

With a coat on and her badge on the chest, she left the apartment, put a note about the power outage at the door of the janitor's office and rushed out into the rain heading for the nearest streetcar stop. She would have taken an umbrella with her, but she lost the only one she had a few days ago in a coffee shop and didn't come around to buy a new one yet.

The stop shelter was crowded with people. Grumbling, she waited in the open while the rain wetted her carefully dried hair once again and rinsed her make-up away.

Dripping wet and with smeared eye-shadow, she finally arrived at the precinct half an hour later, just a few minutes before 8 o'clock. Before anyone could notice her, she dashed into the women's toilet to rinse her face. _At least I don't look like an evil clown anymore. But my hair is still wet..._ The hand drier caught her attention. _That might even work._ Crouching down, she positioned her soaked red mane under the drier's tube and pushed the button.

"What the fuck are you doing there?" Nicole let out a small scream, jumped with fright and hit her head badly on the bottom of the device. "Were you trying to dry your hair with that thing?" "No, Kara, I was repairing the heating circuits... Of course I dried my hair. Ouch, my head..."

Detective Kara Freeman was her 25-year-old partner and best friend since elementary school. They moved from Miami to Portland together to become cops when they were 19. She was a tall woman with a mocha skin tone and straight, shoulder-long black hair she always wore open. Her eyes were of a intense ice-blue color and together with her sharp features and her trained body they emphasized her powerful and confident appearance.

"Sarcasm? From you? That's unfamiliar." "Sorry. I had a really horrible morning." Nicole whimpered while rubbing her hurting head. "Sorry to hear that. What happened?" "Oh well. To keep it short: Lukewarm shower, broken coffee machine, power outage, heavy rain, lost umbrella, occupied stop shelter and now a hurting head." Kara put her arm around the suffering detective and guided her out of the toilet. "That sounds horrible, Blaze." "Blaze" was Kara's nickname for Nicole, referring to her flaming red hair and her occasional impulsive outbreaks. "You know what? We'll go to the coffee machine an get you a nice, hot cup. That'll help you."

The precinct's coffee wasn't great, but she was in no condition to complain and the caffeine and Kara's calming influence raised her mood vastly. "Thanks. I'm better already. Anything new here?" Before Kara could answer, Osvald Osterberg, their lieutenant, stopped by.

Osterberg was a not very tall man in the 30s with Norwegian roots. He had short blond hair, dark blue eyes and a face that radiated a strong feeling of superiority.

"Freeman! Gravely! I can't believe it! Please tell me I'm dreaming this! It's quarter past 8 and instead of working you're sitting by the coffee machine as if you had all the time in the world? There are criminals in this city and it is our obligation to stop them!"

Kara answered, not without a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Yes, lieutenant. We will get to work right away. Please understand that Detective Gravely had an awful morning and..." "Stop searching for excuses and get to work immediately or I'll put you both on patrol duty for the next 2 months!" With his head held high, he marched away. Kara hissed angrily. "Arrogant fuckhead!" "What was that, Freeman?" "Nothing, Sir. Everything's fine." "Good. Oh, I almost forgot: Briefing in 15 minutes. Try to be punctual."

They began their way to the briefing room. Nicole shook her head. "You have to be cautious. Osterberg surely is an arrogant... you know what, but he's still your superior. If you want to get to homicide eventually, you should make yourself popular with him and the chief." "I know, I know. I'm already trying!" "You are? Didn't look like it." "Oh, Blaze, believe me; if I hadn't held myself back, the bastard would have two black eyes by now!" Both of them chuckled while entering the room together with many other cops of the precinct. Lieutenant Osterberg awaited them with a new assignment – an assignment that would change Nicole's life permanently and substantially.

 **[** **Author's notice]** That was it – the first chapter. Next one will be longer and get more human interaction, don't worry. And yes, "Shocky" the coffee machine is a reference to "How I met your mother".

Whatsoever, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please do review it!


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